You & Me
by PaulsenKay
Summary: That's the trouble with life, really- you always assume you have plenty more of it to go. A follow up to 9x08.


They haven't hung the painting yet. Harvey is sitting on the couch, eyes glazed over, when he notices it propped against the wall next to the fireplace. Things had been so busy with Cahill and Malik and they hadn't decided on the right place for it, so there it sat. They had plenty of time, he'd told Donna, they could hang it next weekend. That's the trouble with life, really- you always assume you have plenty more of it to go.

"You should drink this, Harvey."

Donna's voice pulls him out of his daze, as it often does, and she sets a glass of water on the table in front of him. She's next to him on the couch, but at a careful distance, like she's afraid to startle him. He doesn't remember much of the past few hours - he's been glued to this seat while calling Marcus (who had told Donna the news) and through the panic attack that followed. He doesn't know what time it is now- it must be at least three in the morning, but it feels like he's lived a whole lifetime in this one night.

He looks at her and reaches slowly for the glass to take a sip, knowing she's right. She reaches across the distance between them, letting her hand rest on the couch in case he wants it.

"Do you…want to talk? Or just sit a while longer?"

She's treading carefully. She's only delivered news like this once before, to the very man sitting in front of her, and it's killing her to break his heart twice. The last time they were in this position, she couldn't let herself hold him. Couldn't comfort him the way she wanted to. And now, for possibly the first time, she doesn't know what he needs. Donna can count on one hand the number of times she's been at a loss for what to do, and this is now added to that list.

"I…" he clears his throat, "I know she's gone but it just…it doesn't feel fair."

In their years together, she's watched him fight in and out of the courtroom, work to win even the toughest of cases, and do literally whatever it took to free Mike. But today, in this moment, she is seeing for the first time a man who's lost all faith. This has broken him.

"I know it's not, Harvey. And I wish I had the right thing to say, but…there's nothing fair about it."

He looks her in the eye for the first time all night. "I felt like I finally made things right with her, and now…why don't I get the rest of these years? Why can't she be here to see…"

Her throat is closing up and she's doing all she can not to break. She can't, not now- she needs to keep herself neutral, to be a source of stability. She's grieving a woman she never got the chance to meet- and he needs her to keep composure.

"Harvey, I know that nothing I say will make this any better, but…you need to know that your mother loved you. Even when you fought, even during the years you weren't speaking- she never stopped loving you. And above all that-" she pauses, daring to bridge the gap and take his hand in hers, "She was _so _proud of the man that you've become."

He grips her hand then, as if he needs it to reassure him that he's still here, and his voice cracks as he says, "how do you know that?"

"Because," Donna turns herself to face him and places her other hand on his cheek, "I've been with you for over a decade. I saw who you were when I met you and I've seen how you've changed. I couldn't be prouder of you, and I know she saw that change, too. Even from a distance. The fact that you were able to go to her, to put the past aside- that says so much about you, Harvey. Even though you only reconciled over these last few years, she saw you. And I know she was proud you were her son."

She gives him a minute, watching what she's said absorb, and he's silent. But she doesn't move an inch- she keeps that hand on his face, grounding him, telling him she's not going anywhere. And she won't, not until he's ready. All of a sudden, he's back in her arms, his face pressed into her neck.

She's warm and soft and _home_. For the first time since she gave him the news, he feels like he's able to take a full breath. Alongside the grief running through him is something else- the feeling that what really matters to him in this world is wrapped around him right now. All of the bullshit at the firm, all the cons and shady deals and almost going to jail- what does any of it matter? He just lost someone he had to fight years to forgive and learn to love again. How could he risk living like there was always enough time?

"Donna." His voice is muffled, his head still buried, so he lifts it to look at her. "I need to…I have to tell you something."

She shifts back to see him better, locking their hands together again.

"What is it?"

"I wasted so much time being angry with her. I was so hurt by what she did and I lost those years, and now…I can't get them back. I don't think I was really ready to forgive her until I did, but I'm not making that mistake ever again."

"Harvey, what are you-"

"I only got to reconnect with her because of you. And I was so afraid to risk losing you that I wouldn't let myself get too close. I know it's water under the bridge but all that time, we could have been together and life is so goddamn short."

He takes a deep breath, locking eyes with her.

"I told you once that we had everything, and you said _I _had everything- but we were both wrong. I didn't have everything then. I didn't have you."

She loses it then. She's been a champion of composure all night, grieving for him on the inside while maintaining a solid, strong front on the outside.

"I waited too long to make things right with my mom but after everything that's happened this week, I just need to tell you that I intend to spend the rest of my life loving you."

"Harvey…" her voice breaks as she holds his hand tighter, "I intend to spend the rest of mine loving you right back."

Things aren't okay. And they won't be for a while, but that's alright- because he's not going through it alone.

They will spend days planning the funeral- Donna attending to every detail to make it perfect- and everyone at the firm will come to stand with him.

They will go to Louis and Sheila's wedding a few weeks later, where everyone is taking bets on whether the baby will arrive before she makes it down the aisle.

He will have days where he forgets his mother is gone, and days where the pain hits him like a runaway train. He will feel the loss deep in his heart some nights, and those are the mornings Donna wakes up to him clutching her hand in his sleep.

They will leave the painting propped against the wall for a few weeks, unable to find a spot perfect enough. Months later, when they move out of their respective apartments and into a brownstone together, they will wrap it carefully in paper and carry it themselves, not trusting the movers with it.

He will propose on a Tuesday afternoon, when he's meeting her for lunch. They don't work together anymore, but he wants to ask her in her office, where she still keeps the firm afloat. It's nothing like she expected but finally, she has the "more" she searched so hard for and couldn't find.

Six months after their wedding, he comes home from the boxing gym to find her upstairs, in the room they'd designated as an office but have since redecorated to set up a nursery. She is holding a hammer, and he looks above the crib to see her surprise to him- the painting, a little crooked on the wall.

Tonight, he's not okay- but she is in his arms and It's not a dream. They are holding each other up against the weight of grief and lost years and guilt and although he is broken, he is grateful, because they still have their everything ahead.

_I was standing on the ceiling _

_Saw a plane crash on the news_

_They say the chances of that happening are about the same_

_As finding you._

_What I need_

_Is you and me. _


End file.
